She Gets What She Wants

1.) All feedback and critique is welcome--I'm actually looking for a beta.2.) I need, need, need more Piggy/Kermit romance stories--please send me any links for good ones!3.) This fic picks up about a year after Kermit and Piggy split up, about 9 years before the new movie, and pretends that Muppets In Space never happened--sorry Gonzo fans.

She Gets What She Wants​

She didn’t want nutmeg on her cappuccino. Why was it so hard to understand? She wanted it whole milk, extra whip, extra espresso, extra chocolate, extra sprinkles with a fudge-ripple coated straw to stir with. What she had in her hand wasn’t extra anything—and she was pretty sure it was non-fat. Miss Piggy tilted her hand, slowly pouring the frothy concoction onto the floor as she made eye-contact with the snotty coffee girl, Camille.

“Oh!” she said with deliberate sweetness. “Moi seems to have spilled my coffee. Could I have another, no nutmeg, please?”

Camille narrowed her eyes. Piggy narrowed hers right back. Someone in line behind her cleared their throat and then sensibly moved towards the door and any one of the thousands of other cafes in Paris that would no doubt give him the order he wanted—unlike Camille.

Piggy gave an exaggerated gasp. “Oh no, have you just lost a customer? What a shame—I hope that was not due to moi?”

Camille fell back on the time-honored tradition of her people and favored Piggy with the distant, aloof, and slightly disgusted smile of a professional artiste being badgered by a bourgeoisie landlord—but she did re-make the coffee. Piggy countered with the just-barely-there smirk of a Beauty Queen towards Miss Runner-Up as she casually dropped €ten on the counter and sauntered away. It took a special kind of diva to insult someone while overpaying them.

Her high heels click-clacked to the sound of Camille’s grinding teeth until she reached her dressing room; there she was promptly ambushed by the fashion designer and coordinator, Alais, who leveled an unwavering clipboard at her. “Miss Piggy, what have I told you about assaulting the vendors?” she demanded in heavily accented English.

Piggy gazed up at her innocently. “Moi? Assaulting? No, no, you must be mistaken.”

“There is no mistake.”

“It was a simple misunderstanding, Alais,” Piggy said charmingly. “I am sure it will not happen again, a-ha ha.”

“I will remind you, Mademoiselle, that you are not the only plus-size pig model we have on call,” Alais said threateningly.

“The only one willing to wear your outdated designs,” Piggy muttered under her breath.

“What was this?”

“What? Oh, I didn’t say anything,” Piggy replied.

Alais gave her a hard stare that made Piggy unaccountably nervous, then with a whisper of silk, she was gone.

“You should not provoke her,” came a sudden voice from behind her dressing screen.

Piggy whirled, automatically assuming a martial stance before her mind recognized the voice of Suzette, her dresser and personal assistant. She relaxed and sipped her cappuccino. “Pish posh—moi is not afraid of a third rate seamstress.”

“They say she can make or break modeling careers.”

Piggy sniffed. “My modeling career is already made.”

Ramon stuck his head into the room and gave a polite cough. “Miss Piggy, we’re ready for you.”

“Oh, thank vous,” she said grandiosely. She removed her silk dressing gown to reveal an exotic zebra-print bathing suit with a surprisingly full bustle and black ruffles falling across her breasts. The effect seemed to stun poor Ramon, who watched her strut away with a shell-shocked look on his face. Piggy pretended not to notice—after all, she was working.

She reached the room where the photo shoot was set up. The other models, most of them stick-thin and leagues taller than her, were congregated at one end. She sauntered over, her generous curves contrasting nicely with the sharp angles all around her.

“Hello, ladies.”

They turned as one and gave her a collective look of disdain. “Good evening,” one of them said airily. The ‘p’ word was muttered just low enough to not quite be audible and while they were too dignified to giggle, there was a sudden air of amusement that caused Piggy’s jaw to tighten. She was careful to appear unruffled as the photographer stepped forward and began sketching out what he had in mind.

“And then the Piggy will be in the center—you understand, yes?” the man asked, half in mangled, heavily accented French.

There was some more muttering, which Piggy ignored easily as they moved into place. She sat in the middle as the others arranged themselves around her. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until the individual shots began. Then, just as Piggy was stepping down from the Catwalk, Janice stepped up and said quite clearly, loud enough even for Jaime, the lighting guy to hear, “Porky.”

Some things cannot be ignored, even in the name of professionalism. Piggy felt her heart begin to pound as the rage built. She forced her tone to silky sweetness. “What was that, Janice, dear?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I not pronouncing your name correctly? It is this word in English, no?” she asked, exaggerating her accent.

“Say it again, toothpick,” Piggy challenged her in the same calm, deadly sweet voice.

“But I am confused,” Janice said disingenuously. “I am not to say, Porky?”

Piggy saw red—and if she had her way, Janice would see it too. “Hiy-yah!” she cried loudly, launching herself at the scantily clad woman. The next minute the catwalk became the scene of a catfight as all the models launched themselves at Piggy—who held her own easily until Alais arrived on scene with a pack of beefy-looking security people. The fight was quickly broken up, though Janice’s hair would take a while to recover from the pulling Piggy had given it, not to mention the various bruises. They were all sent to their dressing rooms, each to await their individual meetings with an incensed Alais.

Half an hour later, Piggy’s door was flung open and Alais strode in. Piggy immediately opened her mouth to defend herself, but Alais held up a hand. “Non, you will listen. I will not tolerate fighting amongst my girls, however much you are provoked. But, I also cannot afford to switch models at that time, and so, I am left with a quandary. Thus, I am forced to fix you, and so, you will attend a session twice a week with Dr. Gaulle for three months. In two weeks you will return to work, compre vous?”

Alais did not give her time to so much as toss her hair—not that Piggy would have been capable of it. She was too busy staring in shock at the very idea. Dr. Gualle—the celebrity shrink? Her? She was not crazy—a trifle overworked perhaps, but she didn’t need professional help. Miss Piggy pouted, then smirked. Surely there was some way out of this? After all, beautiful people were always the exceptions to the rules.

Despite her best efforts and some very determined protests, a week later Miss Piggy approached a beautiful 17th century converted office with a discreet sign in the corner of the nearest window. Dr. Gaulle, Therapist, it proclaimed. Piggy winced, but made her way up the steps and stepped inside quickly—before any paparazzi caught her loitering on the doorstep. A tinkling little bell sounded as she crossed the threshold and she gave it a dirty look. The receptionist looked up immediately and after only a moment’s scrutiny gave her an understanding smile.

Perceived pity had an immediate effect and Piggy drew herself up to her full height and wrapped her diva dignity around her like a shield. “Yes, Moi has arrived. I am here for my appointment, si vous plais.”

“Yes, Miss Piggy, the doctor is ready for you. You can head straight through.”

“Oh…thank vous so very much,” Piggy said effusively to cover the sudden clenching of her stomach.

She approached the door at a slow, steady stride—because it was more dramatic of course, not because she wished to put this meeting off for as long as possible. Still, once she reached the heavy oak door she had no choice but to push it gently open and step inside.

The office was spacious but managed to look cozy. There was a large, intricately carved wooden desk across from a small seating area with an overstuffed suede chair and a chaise lounge in a deep green. Piggy stepped daintily forward and an older and surprisingly plump woman stepped towards her with a serene expression. “Hello, Miss Piggy. I am Doctor Gaulle.”

“A pleasure,” Piggy said, trying to remember when she had meant the greeting less.

“Won’t you sit down?” the doctor asked, gesturing towards the chaise.

With the air of one headed in the opposite direction of a Dulce and Gabbana outlet, Miss Piggy headed towards her seat. She sat on the very edge, hands clasping her fashionably tiny purse and fidgeted with her gloves. “So…” she said, giving a nervous little laugh.

“Then you have no trouble admitting that psychotherapists make you uneasy.”

Piggy paused. “Well, it is not what moi is used to, of course. After all, moi is perfectly sane. I have met some of these so-called celebrities that you have worked with before, and let me assure you that I am not at all like those weirdos—”

“Well,” Dr. Gaulle said feelingly, “I certainly hope not. You know, I have been seeing some real lunatics lately. I’m glad to be working with someone a bit more grounded.”

“Yes, grounded, that is moi,” Piggy agreed.

“Thank goodness—you know some of those people were tying to do crazy things like have a modeling career, direct plays, write articles for magazines, audition for movies, do stints on Broadway, and still have time for a social life—can you imagine thinking one person could do all of that? Some people are really out of touch with reality.”

Piggy stared openmouthed. “But…but that is what moi does, what moi has always done.”

Dr. Gaulle stared at her in, perhaps a bit exaggerated, consternation. “But Miss Piggy, surely you can see how that would be much too much stress for one person to handle all by themselves. Why don’t you sit back and tell me a bit more about everything you do?”

Piggy frowned thoughtfully. Maybe there was more to this therapy thing than she had first thought.

Welcome to the fanfic boards here at MC! We've have lots of new folks here since the movie came out and everyone is welcome.

Your writing is well-done and grammatical and I enjoyed your characterization of Piggy, although I'd like to see a little deeper into her thoughts before she acts out. I suppose we'll get to that in the sessions with Dr. Gaulle.

Question: So Piggy is modeling now in this story? And has not become a fashion editor yet?

Yes, this is before she becomes an editor. And I'm glad you noticed her thought process is almost nonexistant here. As far as I can tell, in all the other muppet movies, she's been mainly reactive--not only failing to look before she leaps but trying not to look after she leaps--not because she doesn't understand the consequences, but because she knows she can't take them back, and she's not positive she regrets it anyway.

Piggy never struck me as stupid, just very emotional--but I think it's Kermit who really pushes her over the edge. She's going to grow in this fic--it's all about explaining how she gets from here to her emotional maturity from the new movie. Except it won't take 10 years and there will be more wonderful frog/pig romance!

I thought Piggy showed amazing emotional maturity in the movie. She is no longer insecure, needing Kermit at any cost, but a fully realized, secure, um, sow. Piggy in The Muppets knows who she is and she is at peace with that. Her momentary lapse when she tackles Kermit is forgivable because she was surprised, and she recovers nicely, retaining her equilibrium and her sense of dignity. Kermit thought he could just show up and flash those pollywog eyes at her and have her give in--but that was the old Piggy, the needy, dependent Piggy. As usual, he underestimated her, and she surprised him. You go, Piggy!

(Sorry--steps off soapbox, leaves without the authorities being called.... The regulars here are used to me--hope I didn't scare you!)

Actually, I feel pretty much the same way about the new movie Piggy. She's really come into her own, and I think a lot of that is just the director giving the audience what they want. No more two-dimensional characters--people want a romance with some meat to it.

Here here!! Oops, sorry, I just have been reading this wonderful fic and I agree whole heartedly. So welcome aboard to the S.S. Muppet Central where we are knee deep with Fics, stories, and pics! So do this hopless romantic of a fig a favor and lets write some more story! I love your picture btw and your quote about crossina frog and pig! That's actually how I got my own name! lol. So just call me Figgie, you've already met aunty Ru, so welcome! Need I say more?

As the days passed, Piggy found herself almost looking forward to her sessions. Dr. Gaulle spoke to her like no one else ever had. She wasn’t afraid of her, or deferential, or demanding, or authoritative. More importantly, she didn’t seem to want anything from her except what Piggy was willing to give. It was almost as if they were equals, except that Dr. Gaulle always seemed to be one step ahead of Piggy somehow. She found herself talking about things that she never planned to talk about with anyone, before she even realized what was happening.

“And somehow, Kermit pulled the whole thing off. I stepped outside and there everyone was, just waiting to begin. I couldn’t believe it—and I have seen that frog pull off some pretty amazing things. If you could have seen him when he was producing the Muppet Show you would know what I’m talking about—”

“Wasn’t the Muppet Show produced by all of you?” Dr. Gaulle asked curiously.

“Oh, well of course, we all helped, but Kermit was behind everything. I mean, he was always in charge. With ample help from moi, of course—without the star of the show, he would have had nothing—but Kermit made the Muppet Show work. I don’t think anyone else could have pulled it off.”

“But didn’t you tell me Kermit tried to give up a few times? Didn’t he walk away from you when the chips were down?”

Miss Piggy frowned. “Yes, but—but we knew he wouldn’t really do it. We knew he would come back. And he did! No matter how many times he got discouraged and he thought everything was lost, he kept coming back!”

“But if you hadn’t encouraged him, if you hadn’t gone out and done what needed to be done, would it have all worked out? Would Kermit have come back on his own?”

“Of course he would have!” Then she paused thoughtfully. “At least, I think he would have. But maybe…maybe not in time.”

“So as much as Kermit was the vision and the force behind the Muppets, you were the force behind Kermit. You made sure that when push came to shove, he came through?” Dr. Gaulle asked dispassionately, as if she were only seeking clarification.

Piggy blinked. “Yes, I suppose you could say so. I never thought about it that way.” Then she gave a little laugh. “Of course, moi has always been a source of comfort and support to my Kermie.”

Dr. Gaulle made a notation and added. “May I ask, Miss Piggy, what do you think is the greatest thing about Kermit the Frog?”

“Oh, Kermie has so many excellent qualities, moi could never choose just one!” she insisted sweetly.

The therapist nodded. “Then, if you could, tell me what do you think other people would say is the most remarkable thing about him?”

There was a long silence as Miss Piggy pondered. “Well,” she began hesitantly, “I suppose it is the way he looks at the world. It’s very different from how you or I look at it. He’s not selfish, like—um—like most people.”

“How do you mean?”

She pursed her lips, shrugged, and said simply. “His dream.”

Dr. Gaulle raised an eyebrow. “His dream?”

“Yes, Kermit’s dream, the dream that started it all. He decided that he wanted to make people happy. He didn’t want to be famous or successful or wealthy or brilliant—he only wanted to make people smile.”

“What about your own dream?” she asked quietly.

Piggy smiled brightly. “Why, moi is living her dream. She is rich and famous—everyone tells her she is beautiful.”

“And is that important to you?”

Now she began to look a little uncomfortable. “Well, I know it is not as nice as Kermit’s dream, but not everyone can be Kermit the Frog!”

Dr. Gaulle cocked her head. “Not as nice—what do you mean?”

She squirmed. “Well, it is not exactly good or kind or selfless to want to be rich and famous.”

“Is there anything wrong with wanting those things? Doesn’t having money make your life more comfortable and isn’t your fame what brings in the money?”

“I—yeees,” she admitted, as though trying to see where the pitfall was.

“Piggy, do you think your dream isn’t as important as Kermit’s?”

Piggy was quiet, deep in thought as she gazed off into the distance. Dr. Gaulle closed her notebook. Perhaps that was enough for today.

“So I told the manager, if she’s not going to carry the featured shoes in my size then I didn’t see why I should continue buying anything from her at all. Then I stormed of there and that is the last time I shall shop at Che Demi Boutique.”

“Do you know why you were so angry with the manager?”

Piggy rolled her eyes. “Because I wanted those shoes.”

“Do you always get so upset when you don’t get what you want?”

She pursed her lips elegantly. “Pretty much,” Piggy admitted.

“But you told me how much trouble it was getting costumes and accessories that fit when you were making the Muppet movies—you didn’t mention being angry about those difficulties.”

“Well, that was different, I was with—” she cut herself off abruptly. “I mean, I was in Hollywood—naturally it takes some time for fashion to make it’s way from Paris to there, but when one is already in Paris, one expects to receive superior service.”

“I see,” Dr. Gaulle said, quietly writing a quick note in the book. “Why don’t you tell me about when you first got into show business?”

Piggy waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, moi has been on the stage all her life. I have been in pageants and on the radio, always performing, since I was a little piglet—er, girl.”

“And have you always been unhappy when you didn’t get what you wanted?”

“Well…yes…but one becomes accustomed to getting what one wants. After all, moi always knew she would be a big star.”

“Always—even when you were just starting out? You never had a single moment of doubt?”

Piggy sat up straighter. “It is important to be confident in oneself.”

“All right. Let me give you a hypothetical situation. Let’s say you go shopping and you find the most beautiful dress—perfect for any occasion.”

“There is no such dress,” Miss Piggy objected. “Not for every occasion.”

“That’s why it’s hypothetical. So this perfect dress is guaranteed never to stain, never to shrink, never to tear, and never to clash with anything else you wear with it.”

“All right,” Piggy said with the air of one humoring a madwoman.

“So if you found this perfect outfit, theoretically one would never have to buy anything else again.”

“Not unless one wanted to look as though she could only afford one outfit,” Piggy muttered.

Dr. Gaulle gave her a look. “It’s hypothetical, so let’s assume you are only going to functions where you will meet new people. Now, you have the perfect dress, so you can stop looking around for others. When you see dresses you like but they aren’t in your size or they don’t go with your accessories, it wouldn’t upset you, because all your needs are already met by this one person—excuse me, dress. Is that right?”

Piggy nodded slowly, her expression distant and withdrawn.

“All right then, I believe our time is up. I will see you again on Thursday.”

Wow, you are fantastic at this, your form of writing is...fresh. Almost exhilerating! I also love how you use a dress for being hypothetical. Totally Piggy right there. Not to mention the slight hint of our loveable green man, er frog, missing in action. To be quite blunt: Very well done!

Thanks, Figgie! I'm working very hard to keep her in character, which is extremely difficult considering she's usually only seen when she is playing a character (the persona of Miss Piggy, superstar/diva). I'll try to have the next chapter up soon.

That's good! It does take a while to understand these muppets, but it becomes quite the adventure! Heck, I'm still trying to get used to Miss Piggy! But you can also change them, not dramatically of course! But sorta make them your own in the process, like they're real and actually going through these situations. That probably didn't make a lick of sense, but I hope you get the general idea! ALso, what would you like your nickname to be? Everyone basically has one on this website, so what would you like? P.S. If your looking for good ush gush, try Kermie's girl by Aunty Ru (Ruahnna) or Under the mistletoe( it's not as good as Kermie's girl, but it's nice) and they only have each other by We Got Us (Wiggie) Those should give you a head start!

Hopefully when I'm done with this, Piggy will end up close to her movie character--mature but still vulnerable--especially to our favorite frog. I'm actually toying with the idea of an actual sex scene--nothing too extremely graphic, but I think it would be an interesting thing to write. I don't know what the rating rules are on this site, though. I may have to put it up on ff.net. (I haven't done it yet because there's a Star Trek fic I'm technically supposed to be working on that I've kind of been letting slide recently...)

Um...nicknames....technically Your Worship is a nickname, since I usually go by Your Worshipfulness online. Um...I guess just Worship? I dunno...what do you suggest?

I did read Kermie's Girl and LOVED IT. I will definitely check out the others. I don't know why there aren't more fanfics out there about Kermit and Piggy. I think they're just about the most interesting parts of the whole franchise.

Hopefully when I'm done with this, Piggy will end up close to her movie character--mature but still vulnerable--especially to our favorite frog. I'm actually toying with the idea of an actual sex scene--nothing too extremely graphic, but I think it would be an interesting thing to write. I don't know what the rating rules are on this site, though. I may have to put it up on ff.net. (I haven't done it yet because there's a Star Trek fic I'm technically supposed to be working on that I've kind of been letting slide recently...)

Um...nicknames....technically Your Worship is a nickname, since I usually go by Your Worshipfulness online. Um...I guess just Worship? I dunno...what do you suggest?

I did read Kermie's Girl and LOVED IT. I will definitely check out the others. I don't know why there aren't more fanfics out there about Kermit and Piggy. I think they're just about the most interesting parts of the whole franchise.

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As for ratings, all are allowed, but I would put a warning at the top of the chapter.(just as a heads up) Lol, Star Trek, I love that thing! As for a nickname...hmm. Yourie? idk.

“Yes, well, mostly. Like most young piglets, my father—died—when I was young. My mother didn’t want a farm life for me. She had so many litters of piglets, but out of all of them, she chose me. She said I had the best chance.”

“The best chance for what?”

“To escape—to become something more than just a tired old sow on a farm. She started entering me in contests. It started out as just county fairs; then I made it to the nationals as a piglet. She invested all of her savings to deck me out like a princess.”

“And what happened to the prize money?”

Piggy looked away, frowning. “I’m not sure. I know we moved off the farm into a little house, so some of it must have gone there. But—I won so many contests, almost all of the ones I entered. Then of course, I did not understand, but now I know, it must have been a lot of money. I don’t know what she did with all of it.”

“Do you still speak to her?”

“Hmm…oh, no. She died—a few years ago. I went to the funeral, saw a few of my siblings, but—I didn’t like it.”

“Do you think your mother was happy?”

She was still staring of into the distance, but this jolted Piggy back to awareness. “Oh, yes, that is, I’m sure—she would have said something, but, well, really I suppose I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her often; I was afraid she would want me to—”

Piggy gave her a grateful look. “We didn’t always get along, you know, but she always wanted the best for me. She wanted me to have everything I wanted.”

“What about love?”

Piggy blushed. “Yes—she wanted me to marry someone rich and handsome, in that order!” She laughed a bit, thinking back on her mother’s admonition. “She always said—when you get to Hollywood, don’t let yourself be fooled by a pretty face—you be that pretty face!”

“It sounds like she always believed in you.”

“Yes…I wish…” she paused. “I wish I had thanked her.”

“I’m sure she understood, Piggy.”

“Yes, but sometimes you assume people understand things, and they really don’t understand at all…”

Dr. Gaulle stared at her for a minute, then said lightly, “It doesn’t sound as if you’re talking about your mother anymore.”

Piggy flushed again. “It always comes back to Kermit, I guess.”

“Why do you say that?”

She thought about that for a moment. “I guess because he’s the special one.”

The doctor waited a minute, until Piggy stared to shift uncomfortably. It was almost a relief when she finally spoke. “Tell me about why you left.”

Piggy gasped, staring at her in mystification. “How did you—how did you know I left?”

She smiled self-deprecatingly. “Call it intuition. You left because you had to, didn’t you?”

Piggy nodded. “At first, I thought it would be different. Everything was going so well after the film. We’re always at our best when we’re filming.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Piggy gave that a little thought. “I guess because it’s always a romance, and we can’t get carried away by an argument because we’re stuck with what’s on the page. It’s safe. But…it also isn’t real. It’s all scripted.”

“But Piggy, if you knew it wasn’t real, why…?”

“Because he wrote it!” Piggy shouted. “All those kisses and buggy rides and rendezvous’—and why would he keep writing it over and over if he didn’t mean it? And, and he would take me out all through the movie—working lunches, he said, but it was all champagne and talking about old times, and sometimes he would bring flowers, and what was I supposed to think?” Piggy demanded. “But then, when the film was over he would just sort of fade away—stop asking me to come by or meet him, stop calling me, stop meeting my eyes, and no matter how hard I tried to hold on to him, he just slipped away.”

“What about that last time, after the last film.”

“I—I tricked him. I thought, if we were married, he couldn’t leave, so I switched the ministers. I know it was crazy and desperate, okay, I know that!” Dr. Gaulle remained silent and Piggy finally continued. “I built a house and Kermit was going to move in—he wouldn’t admit we were married, but it was technically true—technically” she added defensively.

“But then you fought?”

“Yes—I, we had a fight. We fought a lot but, this was…it was different from usual. He caught me decorating one of the rooms in the house—” She cut herself off, then swallowed an continued almost defiantly, “It was a nursery.” She began to cry then, choked little sobs into a delicate purple handkerchief.

“What else?” Dr. Gaulle asked gently.

Piggy pulled herself together, dabbed at her eyes, and forced herself to sit up and remember she was a diva, not a damsel. She sniffed. “Moi told him that she wanted to marry him. She built him that beautiful house, she said—she wanted to have tadpoles with him—” Piggy’s voice broke again and she stopped.

“Do you think he felt pressured?”

“He said—he said moi was not his wife and would never be. That I didn’t ask him what he wanted; that I never asked him anything. I just did what I wanted and expected him to go along with it.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think if I had asked him, he would have said ‘no.’ If I had waited for him to ask me, nothing would have ever happened at all. Oh, he will flirt with me and he will kiss me when no one is looking and he will live in a house with me—and sometimes we would—” Piggy broke off, blushing furiously.

“Make love?” Dr. Gaulle asked.

“No!” Piggy said immediately. “Not exactly.” She sighed miserably. “I would have, that is, I wanted to, but he never would. He always said, ‘We can’t get carried away.’ Maybe he just didn’t want to get carried away with me.”

“But you still love him?”

There was a long moment of absolute silence. Then, in a small, lost voice she said, “I will always love him. I wish I knew how to stop.” Then the tears came, hot angry tears poured out of her, almost choking her with the intensity.

Dr. Gaulle moved to the chaise to wrap her arms around her. “It’s going to be okay, Piggy. I know this is hard, but you’re going to get through this.”

Yaaay! *does weird happy dance* More story! I really like how you give some real depth to these characters. Now I have a question, does this scene with the arguing and nursery really happy in the movie? I haven't seen it yet, so that's why I am asking. It's very tense, I can feel it! I always new that's what happened in: The Muppets take Manhattan, I knew it, hokay?! >Waits anxiously for more<

“Yes—I, we had a fight. We fought a lot but, this was…it was different from usual. He caught me decorating one of the rooms in the house—” She cut herself off, then swallowed an continued almost defiantly, “It was a nursery.”

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Congratulations YW, with one single line you now have me hooked into this story, and there's no turning back for me now. AWESOME. As someone who is training to become a Dr. Gaulle, this is really refreshing to read, and the fact that you chose to analyze Miss Piggy was brilliant. I will definately be eagerly waiting in the wings for more.